Back to Work

I've been thinking (dreading) about this day since Caroline was a day old.  Tomorrow I go back to work, and everything I have worked to get in order for three months will be shot to shit.

When I was still pregnant, I wasn't exactly sure how long of a break I would take.  Because I am part time, I do not get a partially paid maternity leave.  I had to use my vacation days wisely.   I estimated I could take about 10 weeks off and survive.  I started thinking about this the day after Caroline was born.  Every time I did, my stomach would drop and I would be a ball of anxiety.  How could I possibly manage two kids, a household and a job?  People do it all the time, but how could I do it?  When people would ask when I was going back to work, I would just say around Thanksgiving and never really let myself look at a calendar and decide.  When I finally had to, it just worked out with the holiday that I would go back the Monday after Thanksgiving.  This meant I was able to spend 12 glorious weeks and home with my babies.  More than most, so I couldn't complain.

Going back to work meant I would have to start showering on a regular basis again.  It meant I couldn't wear my black comfy pants and blue hoodie for days at a time.  It meant I had to wake my kids up two hours earlier than normal to get them out the door and to the sitters.  It meant I now had to pay double for daycare.  It meant I couldn't hang out with my girls all day.  I am sad.

After Lyla, I think I was in such shock about how this baby changed my life, I almost looked forward to going back to work.  I went back part time so I will still able to spend a lot of time with her, but it also meant I could have adult conversations again.  I could eat lunch without interruption. I could pee in peace.  I could maybe feel like myself for a few hours a day.

This time is much different.  This time I am mom.  Before, my life was work.  Now my life is my babies.  I didn't want to go back.  I wanted to be mom.   On maternity leave I had time for my household. My house was clean.  My laundry was always done.  My kids were content to hang out with me.  We settled into a sort of controlled chaos.  Now I will have to change all that.  Start a new routine.  One I was forced into.

Will I cry tomorrow?  Maybe.  Will Eric cry on his first day alone with two babes?  Likely.  Fact is it has to happen.  It will take some adjustment, but soon enough I know we'll get the hang out.  But for tonight...the night before I go back, I am scared to death.